


Opus

by Sarek and Amanda Archive Maintainer (Selek)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Elizabeth Leicester, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selek/pseuds/Sarek%20and%20Amanda%20Archive%20Maintainer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A private composition is created and shared.</p><p>Written by Elizabeth Leicester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opus

Opus

Author: Elizabeth Leicester 

Code: Sarek, Amanda

Series: TOS

Rating: R

 

Disclaimer: Star Trek et al is owned by Paramount. No infringement or disparagement is intended by the author.

 

Summary: A private composition is created and shared.

 

 

You’ve always played me, just as you play the harp. You touch me, evoke melody in me, cause my heart to sing. You control me. And I—I am a hopeless musician. I struggle against a mountain of green stone.

 

During your Time, you are flame and I am the pyre. We burn together and I am reborn from the ashes until you cool yourself in me and all is still again.

 

I am always the centre, the centre where you delve. Hands, lips, tongue protruding, touching, caressing, loving. I feel you, hard against my back. I shift, to feel you rest in the midst of me, that penetrating force quiet before its action. And then I rock. It is my song, my prayer to you, rocking on you, before you, a prelude to your symphony.

 

Hands find me, begin to play me, stroking, touching breasts, nipples. Arcing against you, I am lost in your rhythm. You evoke melody. Two fingers glide softly down my face. The tendrils of your mind envelope me. I am at once the player and the played. I feel the need within me even as I feel my tautness, longing for release. Hands continue, the theme develops, the counterpoint soars. You move me. Your force is behind me, directing me, driving through me. I am the instrument, lost in your creation, the composition of your mind.

 

Your hardness completes me. Your rhythm fulfills me. I sing only, entirely, for you and you continue to play me, to evoke my song, to bring the notes from me. Surely I will shatter with your vibration. And then comes the release, the last movement of your opus, a thrusting of the final theme which bursts through me. Your instrument moves and shudders, lost in the rhythm, the harmonies. Again and again you play me until I can sing no more. The conductor's wand lies still, the instrument quiets. The symphony is finished, your work complete. 

 

Your warmth envelopes me, your presence hums within me, ever constant. It is this which lulls me, soothes me, allows me to sink into your oblivion. You are the master musician and I am your vessel of song.


End file.
